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Everyone always tells me to write a book, so this is the closest thing to it. I have been around the block once or twenty times in relationships, friendships, working in the music business and dealing with absolute morons in my daily life. So here goes…..

After going to Barnes and Noble (yes they still exist) and buying two books, which will be obsolete later today, I am just going to write. Of course, I can pay someone (and probably will) to change the color of my Word Press theme because I didn’t go to school to learn this computer language. Isn’t it ironic that when I moved from Silicon Valley, I decide to write a blog? Alanis Morisette could add that to her next installment of “Ironic” and I have a lot more where that came from. I have ALWAYS been backwards and a little crooked, or lop-sided? Take that however you would like.

I thought of a few great names for my blogs (thanks JG for the guydlines part) and now I want to write and make it pretty. Where do I start? How do I make it pretty? That is not as easy as it appears. I see so many idiots writing blogs and making money. Well I am not an idiot and I make money. I am tired of reading about friend’s food and lame non-adventures. In one case in particular, this girl I know who is no longer a real friend, just a “facebook friend” writes a bad blog about fashion. She writes in broken English, is not cute and has never dressed well, but at least she has the ability to write a blog that EVERYONE can read. Right? No, but it gives me a great opportunity to be honest about her lack of fashion sense and her craziness. Her blog premiered with a hysterical video featuring her closet that is the size of half of my smaller pantry. Yes, I have two pantries and one of them can double as a bomb shelter or safe room (see pic). This girl presented her awful collection of clothes/shoes/bags (which is the size of my seashell collection) while wearing some hideous dress she bought at Wet Seal. Honestly, she needs to burn all of her clothes because Goodwill won’t even take them.

(half of my smaller pantry)

Lets refer to her as “bad fashion”. She has been known to our friends as “crazy”. She is crazy. In one of her most original performances, she approached me at a Birthday party of a mutual friend. Mind you, at this time she was still a “real” friend and not just a “facebook” friend. There is a difference, which I can address later in this blog. San Francisco weather is anything but “summer-y”. So, a group of us were gathered for a drag show. This crazy lady comes up to me and demands to know why I am wearing a “winter-y” outfit in March. I looked at the crazy, fashion-less lady like she was ugly/scary enough to haunt a house (thanks dad for the reference). She demanded an answer of me again regarding my outfit choice. I looked at bad fashion/crazy lady and walked far away from her outside and across the bar patio. Bad fashion decides to walk up to me again and asked for the third time “why are you wearing a winter-y outfit”. I looked at her and told her to mind her fashion and I will mind mine. She proceeds to YELL at the top of her lungs that I am a BITCH! and what is wrong with me. Making a HUGE scene in front of Ru-Paul and his friends, she runs out of the drag bar and down Castro Street screaming and yelling at her self. A friend comes up to me and asks what happened. I have no idea. Bad fashion rejoins the Birthday party coming up to me while crying hysterically (yes, this is all happening at a bar, during a Birthday party). She proceeds to explain that she has been nothing but nice to me and she is so sorry and doesn’t understand why we are not friends. I look at her and say nothing. Silence is more of a Bitch than I am (sometimes). Last I heard, she jumped out of a moving car while shopping with the mutual friend who’s Birthday we were celebrating the night of her fantastic performance. She is still running along side that car on the freeway somewhere by the Wet Seal Fashion Outlet in between writing ridiculously bad blog posts in some sort of broken English.